Tuesday, July 19, 2016

I'm yielding the floor -- ok, the cloud space -- of my blog to a colleague who has bravely taken the time to write about her experiences as the wife of a black law enforcement officer (LEO). As the Black Lives Matter, Blue Lives Matter, All Lives Matter movements rage on in our country, I've wondered what it is that I, a white middle-class woman, can do? So part of what I can do is provide space for Victoria to share a piece of her heart. -- Amy, The 4th Frog

Dear Indianapolis and other big American cities-

I hear you. I feel for you. I have been toying with the idea of writing you for
days, but feared my letter would go unnoticed, lost between recent headlines.
You see, I am a part of the very slim minority of being the wife of a Black Law
Enforcement Officer and my heart is doubly breaking these days. I can only tell
you my story, America. I can only say that these are my thoughts and my
feelings and I am not trying to persuade you to think one way or another. This
is just my story, but for such a time as this, this is my platform.

My husband wears two uniforms, one he willingly and bravely wears each
day, representing this city. It’s crisp, clean, and blue, and it’s adorned with
pins and stripes and a badge with a three-digit number that identifies him.

Then there is another uniform he wears daily.

This uniform is who he is, it’s smooth, dark brown, a little
weathered from the forty something years he has been on this Earth; he loves
this uniform. I love this uniform
of skin that he is in, but I also realize this uniform requires a great amount
of responsibility and intentionality.

As I heard of the news of Alton Sterling and Philandro Castile, my heart was
put in thatplace again. That place that was never meant
for our hearts to feel but because of the brokenness of this world I feel it.
Jesus once felt it --so much so that He wept, and here I was trying to make
sense of something that will never make sense. Camera angles, what they did or
didn’t do, what they should have or could have done differently -- each person
involved, but the fact remains that two Black men are gone. Life has been lost
and it is so very tragic. When I see Alton, when I see Philandro, I see my
husband. I see his daily uniform. I see the vulnerability of black skin.

As I stared blankly at the television screen watching the violence of Dallas unfold
I was in thatplace again. That place that makes me cry
out each day, “Come home, honey” -- each day as he heads out to face who knows
what, in who knows where parts of the city, to who knows what kind of
circumstance. I hear the headlines change from 3 to 4, to 5 lives lost and I am
broken. A peaceful protest interrupted by the unimaginable, changing lives
forevermore, taking lives too soon. When I see Sgt. Michael Smith and Officer
Patrick Zamarripa I see my husband. I see his uniform. I see the vulnerability
of blue skin.

So many of you are asking all over social media, is it really possible to have
a deep concern for Black lives, to feel that injustice is still occurring, to
believe that discrimination still exists solely because of the color of one’s
skin and not at all based on the content of their character, while still
realizing the true sacrifice of a law enforcement officer to uphold the law,
protect its citizens, and run toward danger in every instance, the answer is yes.

Yes, you can.

You can love both, you can pray for both. You don’t have to be all
or nothing or one side and not the other. I love my all-American, strong,
caring, funny, father to my children, endearing husband, Black man and I love
the law enforcement officer that he is. I love both parts of him.

Can we address our fears? Can we be honest that sometimes our
uniforms both the outward ones, the inward ones, the ones that are mandatory
and the ones that we live in, can we be honest that sometimes we are fearful of
our uniforms?

Drive out the fear by bringing it to light.

My mother use to tell me after nightmares to talk about it. She
would tell me to bring those awful fears to light. These last few weeks feel
like nightmares and I am in that place again hearing about Baton
Rouge.

So I am left here to talk about it, “Now is the time to make justice a
reality for all of God's children. It would be fatal for the nation to overlook
the urgency of the moment.” -- MLK, Jr.

4
comments:

Victoria, I am in tears as I read this! You have expressed everything that I have been feeling and thinking as my mind race to understand the spiritual nature and pulse of what is going on in this world and in our country. Asking myself what is God trying to tell us? As the mother of an African American son and grandson, the wife of an African American man, I just need the readers to feel our hearts, the ungodly fear that haunt us as the women in their lives, who love them as God loves us and loved His son so much that He gave His life for us. To all the Mothers who also love their sons whether their uniform is black, white or blue. Victoria I want you to know that I hear you and feel your hearts cry. My response has been to intercede and pray to my God because to Him all lives matter and He expects us as His creation to respect all lives that He has created. I will be your silent prayer partner, praying for your husband, my husband, our sons and everyone else's child who is in harms way everyday. Thank you for sharing what the Lord placed in your heart to share with us, God bless you and please let your husband know that there are people praying for those whose uniform is blue, all I ask is that He as a believer will speak up and out against any racism and injustice that he sees in his department and among his fellow officers. I pray that the Holy Spirit will touch his heart and that he will not be drawn into the blind code of silence and loyalty that some who wear a blue uniform often adhere to.